<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Death of One Friend, Life of Another by phoenixsoul13</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25744456">Death of One Friend, Life of Another</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixsoul13/pseuds/phoenixsoul13'>phoenixsoul13</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Animal Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Surana + Anders friendship, bending some lore, or maybe breaking it entirely, vague spoilers for DA2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:01:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,060</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25744456</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixsoul13/pseuds/phoenixsoul13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Deirdra loses one of her oldest friends, which prompts her to do what she can to save the lives of those she has left.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Death of One Friend, Life of Another</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The ideas in this have been floating around my head for a while now, but I really felt the need to write this after we had to put down two cats within 3 months of each other. To all my old pet friends, may you be at peace.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Deirdra sat upward before her eyes fully opened, shaking the sleep from her head. What had awoken her? Everything appeared normal. No raised voices outside or in the halls, no pounding feet on the floor boards, no singing metal or pulls on the Fade as the Wardens prepared for a fight. All was quiet.</p><p>No, wait… after a moment, she heard it again, a barely audible whimper from in front of the fireplace. Where her faithful mabari Garahel slept, curled up near the dark embers. </p><p>Barely a second passed before she was kneeling next to him, and it was only here that she noticed he was deathly still; only the slight movement of his back indicated he yet breathed. What was wrong? And yet, as the thought entered her mind, she sensed an overwhelming corruption coming from him. Oh no, no no no no no. </p><p>The moonlight shining through the window gave her enough light to see, especially with her elven eyes, but she lit a candle anyway. His fur was far paler than its normal grey, and where the fur was thin, she could see creeping tendrils of black. </p><p>It was darkspawn corruption. Hadn’t she cured him? The kennel master had called it a cure. She’d wondered if there had been some lingering traces of the corruption, but it was so faint, she assumed she was imagining it. Eight years and it never grew more prominent. Or perhaps that had been wishful thinking on her part. </p><p>She had to do something. But there was nothing… no cure. Even the Joining only delayed the process, much like the wilds flower apparently had.This was it. She was going to lose him. Garahel whined and whimpered; the pain must be unbearable and he was smart enough to know what was wrong. He could sniff out the corruption like he could darkspawn. There was no point in letting him suffer. She should… no. She stopped that thought right there as her stomach rolled. </p><p>At the very least, she should relight the fire. He always loved its warmth. With a wave of her hand, the fire flickered back to life, and she sat on the floor where she could pull Garahel’s head into her lap. He didn’t acknowledge her, didn’t even open his eyes, and she ignored the tight knot in her stomach as she slowly stroked his head. Hopefully she could decide how to handle this before the sun rose. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>An indeterminable time later, a knock sounded on her door. Deirdra glanced up at the window; there was still a few hours until dawn, no one should be seeking her out yet. Belatedly, she managed to call out to whoever was behind the door. “Come in.”</p><p>The door opened and Anders appeared in the doorway. Of course. Ever since he had returned to Vigil’s Keep after Kirkwall, he occasionally visited her if she was working late. It was good to have a friend return to her life; she’d lost more than one in this line of work. </p><p>His tired smile disappeared as he spotted her on the floor. Or perhaps the distressed look that must cover her face. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>She shook her head as he hurried to examine her, looking down at her mabari. “Garahel, he’s-” Dying. Or worse. Her heart leapt into her throat. </p><p>Anders examined Garahel very briefly. The cause was obvious after all. “It’s… darkspawn corruption.” </p><p>With a nod, she sighed and bent her head over Garahel’s, holding his face with her hands. </p><p>“When did this happen?” Anders looked puzzled. She would feel the same if she hadn’t known Garahel’s history. </p><p>“It was before I met him, in Ostagar.” She told the story of how in her first days as a Grey Warden, she’d been asked to bring back some wilds flowers for a mabari that had ingested some darkspawn blood, in the same battle that had killed his former master. “After the… after we left Ostagar, he found us just as we were about to be set upon by a pack of darkspawn. He was definitely a great help.” She stroked Garahel’s muzzle in remembrance, but stopped when this prompted a pained whine. A sigh escaped her. “It’s wrong of me to let him suffer, isn’t it?”</p><p>Anders was quiet for a minute. “Surana, I can-”</p><p>“No!” </p><p>Anders flinched, and Deirdra immediately leaned over to grab his hand in apology. “No, Anders; you’re a healer.” She emphasised the last word. “And this is my responsibility.” Even if it hadn’t been, she could never ask that of him. After Kirkwall, she refused to put more blood on his hands. </p><p>Now resolved, and not wanting to give herself a chance to change her mind, Deidra stood up and fetched her dagger from under her pillow. As she returned to Garahel’s side, her heart warmed to see Anders had taken her spot by her mabari’s head, soothing him. </p><p>Deirdra quickly located the best vantage point, and cast a sleeping spell on Garahel to let him go as peacefully as possible. Steeling herself, she positioned the dagger and then she could… end Garahel’s suffering. This was the best course of action; if she didn’t put him down, if the corruption didn’t kill him, it would turn him into a ghoul and they would be forced to attack in self-defense. But her hands shook, and no matter what, she couldn’t force herself to press the dagger down. </p><p>Anders laid a hand on her arm. “You’re not alone, Deirdra.”</p><p>A sob escaped her. When had she started crying? But Anders’s words allowed her to tighten her grip on the dagger, and she finally made the movement that ended Garahel’s life. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Deirdra watched silently as Alistair lifted Garahel onto the small pyre they’d constructed for him in the middle of the courtyard. She hadn’t cried since she’d put Garahel down, not even when she broke the news to Alistair and consoled him. She could feel the pressure building, but couldn’t figure out how to let it go. </p><p>She wished she had known sooner, soon enough to enjoy the last bit of time she had with him and allow him a calmer life before the end. Garahel had been by her side almost as long as Alistair. After talking with Anders last night, she found herself remembering those faraway days, when her mabari would get into everyone’s satchels as they sat up camp for the night, or running ahead on the Imperial Highway. </p><p>Her thoughts were disrupted by Alistair approaching her side. “Did you want to say some words?” His voice was low and kind. It took her a moment to recognize what he was asking. Did she even trust herself to be able to speak without breaking down? But she’d spoken numerous times when they had lost people, either recruits in the Joining or fellow Wardens in battle. How could she give Garahel any less?</p><p>Later, she wouldn’t remember a word she’d said, only the feeling of hot tears escaping her eyes as she finished. Alistair stepped away to grab a torch, but Deirdra raised a hand to stop him. She would do this. It was her responsibility. She had taken his life to spare him further pain and she would put him to the fire. As she approached the pyre, she called forth a flame in her hand, but hesitated. Ignoring the spot her dagger had entered, she turned her attention to Garahel’s face. He looked nothing like he had in life, far too pale and lifeless, no smile or twinkle in his eye that suggested far more intelligence than one might assume. But she found herself giving him one last scratch behind his ears before she lit the pyre. </p><p>After a while, the crowd slowly started to disperse. She paid them no mind; she only had eyes for the fire. Alistair stayed by her side, arm around her shoulder. She was beyond grateful for his taking charge of this funeral. He’d known Garahel as long as she had; he was the one who had suggested the name, after the hero of the last Blight. Eventually she leaned into his side to hug him back, though she still couldn’t tear her gaze away from where her mabari’s remains were being burned. </p><p>Deirdra heard a soft chirp and felt a feather coat brushing her left arm, disrupting her thoughts. She pulled her eyes away from the fire for the first time since she’d started her vigil. It took a few blinks before her vision cleared enough to see Anders’s face, his cat Ser-Pounce-a-Lot close behind. </p><p>A soft blue glow surrounded Anders and clouded his eyes, indicating Justice’s presence. “<b>I am sorry, Surana</b>.” The blue glow faded before Anders added, “We both are.”</p><p>She reached out to give his hand a friendly squeeze. “I appreciate it, thank you.” And she did. Having friends near eased the pain in her heart, at least a little. Anders turned away to watch the pyre as well and his smile dropped into a pensive look. There was clearly something else he wanted to say, but he didn’t, and she couldn’t bring herself to ask. Not today. Instead, she resumed her watch until the flames finally burned out. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>A week later, Deirdra was sorting through a box in the storage room. She should really be at her desk, responding to a letter from Queen Anora, but everytime she glanced over her shoulder to check on Garahel, he wasn’t there. And then she’d remember. </p><p>At least the storage room was unfamiliar. No old habits to break. And these boxes did need to be cataloged; some of it was years old, items and papers Duncan had brought to Ferelden when the Grey Wardens were allowed back. </p><p>She was squinting at papers written by the former Warden Commander, attempting to read faded words, when she heard the door to the storage room open. From her position on the floor, the door was hidden behind a number of boxes, but whoever had entered made no effort to hide their footsteps, so she returned to the papers until they reached her. Probably Nathaniel; he was due to return from a scouting trip today. </p><p>And yet it was Anders who appeared from behind the stack of boxes. “I need to ask you something.” </p><p>Well, he wasted no time in greetings. Deirdra nodded, then gestured for him to sit. His tone was… worrying to say the least. </p><p>He sat down slowly, clearly intent on speaking. “The night Garahel died, you said that you had cured him of the corruption before.” </p><p>Oh Anders. Her heart ached. He never asked to be a Grey Warden; that was why she never went after him when he and Justice disappeared. “Only temporarily, as you saw.” </p><p>“But it <em> did </em> stop it?” Technically, but there was no need for her to repeat that it hadn’t truly worked; that wouldn’t help him. Anders brushed a hand through his hair, and it was only because she was watching that she noticed the slight shaking. “So.. shouldn’t it be possible to find something to remove it permanently?”</p><p>Deirdra gripped his other hand. “Anders, if I knew of anything, I wouldn’t hide it from you.” </p><p>“I don’t want to die alone in the Deep Roads, Deirdra; I can’t-”</p><p>Deirdra set down the papers and moved to hug him. She remembered hearing what Irving had done. Solitary confinement, for a year. It didn’t even happen to her, but she had never forgiven the man. “You’re not alone, Anders. You don’t have to go down there. I won’t make you.” Not anyone, not after the things she had seen down there. </p><p>But even with that, the life of a Grey Warden was always short, as the corruption seeped in and eventually took the Warden’s life. She couldn’t fault him wanting to live; not when she had cheated death herself. She was dedicated to serving the Grey Wardens for the rest of her borrowed time, but Anders had not asked for this. She had forced it upon him. To protect him from the Templars yes, but it was still her doing. “If there’s a cure out there, I’ll help you find it.” She wouldn’t lose anyone else to the taint if she could help it. </p><p>His response came in the form of a tightening hug and a quiet, “Thank you.” </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>